


we didn't mean to make your life such hell

by CallMeBombshell



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Episode Tag, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-02
Updated: 2012-10-02
Packaged: 2017-11-15 12:38:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/527405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallMeBombshell/pseuds/CallMeBombshell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Later, once they’ve all gone home (or been dragged away and hauled into a patrol car with several pointed, angry glares sent his way, in Stiles’ case), away from the flashing lights and police cars and uncomfortable questions none of them can really answer, Stiles calls Scott.</p>
<p>
  <i>"I panicked!" Scott says, and Stiles can practically hear him flailing. "I didn't know what to do!"</i>
</p>
<p><i>"You could have done literally anything except accuse the guy we already got wrongly arrested for murder, Scott!"</i> </p>
<p>Post-1.07 episode tag</p>
            </blockquote>





	we didn't mean to make your life such hell

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](http://no-more-virtuous.tumblr.com/post/32737363629) on my tumblr as a comment!fic in response to [this post](http://pembroke.tumblr.com/post/28717263235/was-capping-for-the-gifset-im-working-on-and-i) by pembroke.

Later, once they've all gone home (or been dragged away and hauled into a patrol car with several pointed, angry glares sent his way, in Stiles' case), away from the flashing lights and police cars and uncomfortable questions none of them can really answer, Stiles calls Scott.

He doesn't give Scott a chance to say anything, just asks, "Why did you say it was Derek?"

"Whu-?" Scott makes a sleepy, confused sound on the other end of the line.

Stiles rolls his eyes and talks over him. "At the school, you threw Derek under the bus, pinned everything on him. Why?"

"I told you," Scott says, sounding a bit more awake. "I had to say something, and I thought he was dead, so..."

"You could have just said you had no idea," Stiles points out. "You could have said you never saw the guy. They'd never have known."

"I panicked!" Scott says, and Stiles can practically hear him flailing. "I didn't know what to do!"

"You could have done literally _anything_ except accuse the guy we _already_ got wrongly arrested for murder, Scott!"

"I know!" Scott huffs, sounding frustrated and annoyed. "I know, I shouldn't have blamed him, okay? I know. He was trying to help us." He sighs, "I just freaked out, okay?"

Stiles leans back, settling against the back of his chair with a sigh of his own. "I know, dude, okay? I get it. I just--" He trails off, unsure what to say. On the other end, Scott is silent.

"Stiles," he says, after a moment. "Why do you care? I mean, you don't even like Derek. Why do you care if he gets in trouble?"

Stiles makes a frustrated noise and brings a hand up to rub through his hair, wishing for once that it was longer so he could properly tug at it; it seems like the sort of situation that warrants proper frustrated hair-pulling.

"I don't know," he says, wincing when it comes out sharper than he'd intended. "I mean, no, you're right," he says, "I don't like the guy. He's creepy and brooding and doesn't tell us jack shit. But, I dunno," he huffs out a breath, frowning. "It just feels wrong," he says. "It was our stupid idea to call the alpha, not his. He was just trying to help, and we got him--"

He cuts himself off, trying not to think about seeing Derek lifted off the ground, eyes shocked and blood dripping from his mouth, the heavy thump of his body hitting the side of the school and falling to the ground. Scott's fallen silent again, probably remembering as well.

"But he was gone," Scott says quietly after a moment. "When we left, I mean. He wasn't there. So he must have healed enough to leave, right?"

"Or the alpha took his body when he left," Stiles says, and then grimaces. 

"Oh god," Scott says, sounding horrified. "No, oh god. Would he do that? Is that something werewolves do? I mean, he took the janitor's body, right?"

Stiles rolls his eyes. "How would I know? I know more than you do, obviously, but I'm not a freaking expert or anything. And you just got our only real expert possibly killed, and turned him into a fugitive if he's not dead."

"He's gonna kill me," Scott says, in tones of dawning horror. "If he's still alive, he's gonna kill me."

"He won't kill you," Stiles tells him, trying to sound placating and assured. "He still needs your help to find that alpha, right? So he can't kill you."

"You're right," Scott says, not sounding reassured, somehow. "Maybe he'll just maim me horribly."

Stiles shakes his head and makes a face, even though Scott can't see it; he knows Stiles well enough, he'll be able to picture it just from the sound of his voice. "He's not going to maim you, either," he says. "He's gonna be pissed as hell, yeah, but you do sort of deserve that for telling a bunch of people, including Allison's father, that Derek is a deranged mass murderer."

"Oh god, her father." Scott gasps with a sort of choked-off wail. "Oh my god, she's going to tell her father, and he's gonna tell her aunt, and they're gonna go after Derek whether he's dead or alive. Oh my god, Stiles, why didn't you stop me!"

Stiles rolls his eyes, wishing Scott could see the supremely unimpressed look on his face right now. "What was I supposed to say?" he asks. "You just blurted it out in front of everyone, what was I supposed to do, say, 'Oh no, Scott's kidding, it's actually an unknown person who turns into a horribly deformed wolf-like creature who's been killing it's way across town for a few weeks now'?"

"Oh god, I know," Scott groans. "I can't believe I did that."

"Yeah, well," Stiles sighs. "You did, and now we've got to deal with it."

"What are we gonna do?" Scott sounds so earnest, so sincere, and it almost makes Stiles laugh.

"We've gotta make sure he's okay," Stiles says, thinking out loud. "Or at least, you know, not dead. We sort of owe it to him."

"Yeah," Scott says, "yeah, I can check his house, see if I can find him."

"I'll keep an ear out on my dad's radio," Stiles says, nodding to himself. "He'll be a priority suspect now," he adds, "so they'll have all eyes out looking for him. Unless he's a lot better at hiding than I think he is, it shouldn't be long before he shows up somewhere."

"And then we just have to get to him before the cops do," Scott finishes. "Yeah. Okay."

"Okay," Stiles echoes. He feels lighter, somehow. He's still terrified, of course, still riding the adrenaline rush of fear and excitement from the past few hours, but somehow he feels better now, knowing they've got an idea of what to do next.

"Does it actually bother you?" Scott says, quietly, breaking Stiles out of what he realises has been a few long moments of silence.

"Does what bother me?"

"That I blamed Derek," Scott says hesitantly. "It just, when you first called, it sounded like... I dunno. You just seemed pretty pissed about it."

Stiles sighs, staring at his ceiling. "I don't know, dude. I mean, I don't like the guy, and I don't trust him."

"But?" Scott asks.

" _But_ ," Stiles says, sounding frustrated even to his own ears. "I sort of feel sorry for the dude. And I guess even if I don't like him, I don't necessarily want him dead or in jail or whatever, either."

"Yeah," Scott says, sounding thoughtful. "Yeah, I guess I get that."

Stiles sighs. He turns his head, looking over at the clock next to his bed. "Shit, dude, I need to get some sleep. I have no idea if we're even gonna have school tomorrow or not. We know they're not going to find anything there, but who knows."

"Yeah, it's late," Scott says, yawning. 

"I'll talk to you tomorrow," Stiles says.

"Right, tomorrow." Scott pauses, and Stiles opens his mouth to say goodnight, but then Scott speaks again.

"Are we gonna talk about it?" he asks, quietly. "About what I said, outside? About," he swallows, loud enough that Stiles can hear it across the line. "About what the alpha wants me to do?"

Stiles opens his mouth and then closes it again, hesitating. "What is there to talk about?" he says, finally.

Because he knows they need to talk about it, about how, for a moment, Scott had honestly wanted to kill him, kill all of them. And they need to talk about how Scott's already tried to kill Stiles before, how he could do it again, especially if the alpha can force his actions. But its' late, and he's finally cresting the wave of adrenaline he'd been riding, heading towards the inevitable crash, and he doesn't want to think about it anymore tonight.

"Right," Scott says. "Yeah, you're right. Nothing to talk about."

"Just remember to go look for Derek tomorrow," Stiles reminds him. "After school or whatever."

"Right," Scott repeats. "I will." He pauses for a moment, like he wants to say something else, but he just says, "Talk to you later, Stiles."

"Later, dude." Stiles hangs up, dropping his phone onto his chest and staring up at the ceiling and the glow-in-the-dark sticker constellations he'd put up when he was ten.

"For once in my life, Derek," he tells the stickers, "I hope you're okay. Because I have a feeling we're gonna be so fucked if you're not."


End file.
